


River Walk

by Persiflage



Category: Law & Order: UK
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James makes a couple of discoveries while walking along the river with Alesha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	River Walk

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: This is what we didn't see in 'Paradise' during James' and Alesha's walk along the River Thames. (Some of the dialogue here is taken directly from the episode.)  
> Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK.  
> Spoilers: 1.06: Paradise

James can't help feeling grateful to Alesha for suggesting that they take a walk along the Thames after Faruk's sudden appearance at the office, and then his rejection of James' offer of assistance over the internal investigation. He feels bewildered by the way things have turned out: to lose a friendship of 20 years standing simply for doing his job and trying to be impartial seems like a cruel irony.

"I'm sorry I called you brutal," Alesha says as they set out alongside the river.

He glances across at her remorseful expression and feels one of the knots in his insides loosen. "It's okay," he assures her, nudging her shoulder gently with his. "I don't blame you for thinking that."

"I shouldn't have said it, though. Thinking it was one thing, but to say it – that was uncalled for."

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets to stop himself from taking her hand or putting his arm through hers. He realises abruptly that he wants to touch her, to take comfort from her presence at his side, but he knows he can't. She's got a boyfriend, for one thing – and he's not so arrogant as to think she'd be interested in him, for all Faruk believes otherwise.

He can't help sighing as his thoughts revert back to his old friend.

"Are you okay?" Alesha asks, her quiet concern soothing his hurt a little more.

He shrugs a little. "I will be, in time," he says.

He doesn't want to lie to her, but at the same time he doesn't want to whine. Sometimes his urge to protect Alesha from the realities of life is almost overwhelming, and he wants to laugh at himself. She isn't some naïve child: she's had her own share of painful experiences – not that they've talked about anything in great detail, but she's let little things slip now and again, and he always remembers the personal things she tells him. He hunches his shoulders to stop himself pulling a hand free of his pocket so he can hold her hand; he's embarrassed by how much he's longing for a touch from her. He remembers, vividly, how she briefly hugged him in the robing room at the Old Bailey after Slade's retrial went against him: the scent of her shampoo, the softness of her body, and the strength of her arms tightening around him.

He can feel his body reacting to the memory, and tenses himself even further inside his coat, feeling grateful for the cover it provides. He makes himself talk about something else, anything to distract himself.

"My wife once told me I was too pious for my own good. Just before she threw a plate of toast at me," he says, feeling rueful at the memory.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Alesha insists.

He shrugs a little. "I was so intent on not giving Faruk favourable treatment, I went too far the other way."

"It's a beautiful thing, hindsight" she says, with a slight smile, "and totally useless."

He glances down at her face and can't help smiling a little in response.

"Nobody else understands," she observes. "If we're not completely impartial, we're not doing our jobs."

He knows she's right, but that doesn't make this any easier. "Does it ever annoy your boyfriend, that kind of thinking?" He smiles as he asks the question, but he feels the knots inside him tighten again as he mentions her boyfriend.

She looks up at him. "What boyfriend?" she asks deliberately.

"I thought - " he begins, confused.

"James, really, that ended four months ago." She makes a cutting off gesture with her hand and he feels what he knows is a ridiculous surge of hope, even as he tries to apologise for his tactlessness. (Although how was he to know? She'd shown no signs of going through a relationship break-up – unlike when he'd broken up with his wife.)

"Oh!" He nods, then pulls a face. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I am officially rubbish."

"Hmm-mmm," she agrees, and they're both grinning in acknowledgement, but all the knots in his insides are loosened now, and he can't help the surge of hope growing, even as he tells himself not to be ridiculous. She won't be interested in him like that: he's too old, too cynical.

"Faruk'll come round," she says.

"I don't think he will," James says, "and I don't know how I could have done things differently."

"Well, we can't let his information go to waste. I'll go and talk to this Gerald Lindon. He's our last hope."

He nods agreement, but his thoughts are busy with the knowledge that Alesha's no longer with her boyfriend, and he misses her next remark.

"James?"

He starts. "Sorry," he mumbles, not quite daring to meet her eyes in case she reads something in his expression.

"It's okay," she assures him, then startles him by slipping her arm through his and leaning a little into his side. "Let's go and get a coffee before we go back to the office."

He nods dumbly, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her, instead following her off the riverside path and over to the nearby coffee shop. He pays for their drinks, and they go back outside, where he gives her one of the cups; he nearly drops his own when she slips her arm through his again.

"Come on," she says, urging him towards the office.

He wonders if he dares to invite her out for dinner once this case is over – would she think it wholly inappropriate, or would she be flattered.

"Planet Earth to Mr Steel," she says, her tone affectionate and teasing as she drags his attention back to the here-and-now.

"I'm sorry, Alesha," he says. "I'm being completely useless."

"Nonsense," she says vigorously. "You're distracted by the case: it's completely understandable."

He looks down at her, wondering if he dares to tell her that he wasn't thinking about the case at all, and he sees her bite at her bottom lip.

"I was wondering," she says, then stops, as if she's not sure how to go on.

"What?" he asks softly.

"Would like to come to dinner tonight?" she asks in a rush, as if she's afraid he'll say no and wants to get the rejection out of the way.

"Really?" he asks, not quite daring to believe she's asking him. She nods. "I'd love to, thank you."

"It won't be haute cuisine," she tells him. "I'm not a brilliant cook."

He laughs softly. "Neither am I, so don't worry about it." He grins goofily, like a small boy who's just been given a special treat. "Thank you."

She grins back. "Don't thank me until you've eaten it," she says, leading the way into their building.

"Thank you for the invitation," he says. "It's very sweet of you."

She blushes and murmurs a disclaimer, and he can't help the surge of hope returning even more strongly now, although he tells himself he shouldn't count his chickens just yet.

James unwinds his scarf, hanging it up together with his coat. As he goes across to his desk, she sticks her head through his door.

"I'm off to see Gerald Lindon then. I'll be back in a couple of hours at the outside."

He nods. "Okay."

She goes out, and he starts thinking about wine and flowers, wondering what she likes. Today isn't so bad, after all, he decides as he smiles to himself.


End file.
